


Perchance to Dream

by tinydooms



Category: The Mummy (1999), The Mummy Series
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Nightmares, PTSD, WW1 mention, cuddling for the greater good, prompts from my ask box
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:49:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23856358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinydooms/pseuds/tinydooms
Summary: That Rick O’Connell suffered from nightmares should not have been a surprise to Evie. After all, she had read as many books on psychology as she could after Jonathan came back from the War, limping about on crutches and waking them all in the night with his cries. She knew that nervous disorders were more than common among their generation; they were practically de rigueur for any man who had served. Yet it startled Evie to think that Rick--solid, dependable Rick--had night terrors.
Relationships: Evy Carnahan O'Connell/Rick O'Connell
Comments: 15
Kudos: 73





	Perchance to Dream

**Perchance to Dream**

_ Cairo, November 1922 _

That Rick O’Connell suffered from nightmares should not have been a surprise to Evie. After all, she had read as many books on psychology as she could after Jonathan came back from the War, limping about on crutches and waking them all in the night with his cries. She knew that nervous disorders were more than common among their generation; they were practically  _ de rigueur _ for any man who had served. Yet it startled Evie to think that Rick--solid, dependable Rick--had night terrors. 

The first time she had heard him cry out in the night, just after the events at Hamunaptra, Evie had leaped awake, her heart pounding. She had rolled out of bed and run across the corridor to the guest bedroom that had become Rick’s, to find him sitting up in bed, shirtless, clutching his head. He had been quick to reassure her-- _ I’m fine, really, I’m sorry; didn’t mean to wake you _ \--and Evelyn, uncertain how to proceed, had gone back to bed. But it haunted her. She slept lightly most nights--waking to an undead creature kissing your face did that to a girl--and it became ordinary to wake to the sound of nightmares across the way. During the day Rick kept busy, helping Evie and Jonathan to sort and catalogue the artifacts from Hamunaptra or helping the staff rearrange furniture and make minor repairs to the Carnahan family house, now that they had returned from Fort Brydon. He always  _ seemed _ fine during the day, but Evie had learned from experience how looks could be deceiving. She knew that Jonathan resented having his nightmares mentioned, and wondered if Rick was the same. 

That night she was up late, reading a detective novel that Rick had brought her from one of the English bookshops, a really rather intricate piece about a body in a bath wearing only a pince nez, and a missing financier and the superficially dandy young lord who was trying to solve the puzzle. The body was being disinterred for re-examination when a cry brought Evie out of the dreary London dawn slap back into her bedroom in Egypt. She put the book down and got out of bed. To hell with male snobbery. She slipped through her door and went across the hall to Rick’s bedroom. 

Rick was still asleep, tossing about in bed, his sheets tangled about his limbs. Evie bent over him; would he flail out if she touched him, as Jonathan used to do?

“Rick,” she said in a low voice. “Rick, love, it’s okay. It’s all right.”

He muttered a string of words in French, too fast for her to understand. Ready to duck away if necessary, Evie put her hand on his shoulder. 

“Rick,” she said again, “it’s okay. It’s a bad dream; it can’t hurt you.”

He stilled, panting, and taking this as a good sign, Evie settled down on the edge of the mattress and rubbed his arm, whispering small soothing things. In the dim moonlight she could see that his lashes were wet. Rick went quiet; she thought he had relaxed out of his nightmare into better sleep, but then he spoke. 

“Evie?” It was almost a sob in the darkness. 

“Yes,” she said. “Do you want me to go away?”

His hand came up and caught her arm. “No. Please stay.”

Rick turned towards her, curling in on his side, and she rested a hand on his hair without thinking. He didn’t squirm or push her away, and Evie stroked his hair gently, as her mother had done when she had night terrors as a child. He leaned into her touch. 

“Do you want to tell me?” she asked. 

Rick took a deep breath and let it out in a shaky gust. “It’s just...war stuff. Sometimes it all comes out, you know?”

“I know,” Evie said, thinking of Jonathan and how he had spun out of control in the early days, drinking himself to sleep to avoid the nightmares. She rubbed his back. “I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”

“I’m sorry,” Rick mumbled. 

“Don’t be sorry. Night terrors are a perfectly ordinary part of battle fatigue,” Evie said, quoting from a pamphlet she had read. 

Rick looked up at her; his eyes in the moonlight looked damp. He wiped them with his hand. “I meant I’m sorry I woke you up.”

Evie shook her head. “You didn’t. I was reading a really rather good book that a gentleman friend bought for me.”

“Oh, well, in that case,” Rick whispered, and they both giggled a little. 

“Scoot over,” Evie said, and lay down beside Rick on the mattress. Rick stiffened, surprised, as she scooted under the covers and took him in her arms, hugging him to her and tucking his head in under her chin. “There. That’s better, isn’t it?”

Rick’s arm came about her, gingerly. “Yes. This is great, actually.”

It was probably wildly inappropriate, Evie reflected, to be lying in the arms of this man that she had only known for a few weeks, but she found she didn’t care. It was  _ good _ to hold him. She could feel Rick’s heart beating against her chest, a novel sensation and a nice one, his breath warm on her neck. She rubbed her fingers through his hair and felt him inhale and relax. 

“I think I’d like to stay here tonight,” she whispered, “if that’s alright with you.”

Rick’s arm tightened about her in response. “Yes. Please.”

Evelyn nodded and relaxed, letting her eyes drift shut. She felt Rick relax more into her, his body going heavy as he fell back asleep. Hopefully he wouldn’t have any more bad dreams tonight. And if he did, she would be here. Together they would keep the monsters at bay.

Author's Note: this came from a prompt over on Tumblr; if you have requests, please do drop me a line! The book Rick bought Evie, "Whose Body?" by Dorothy L. Sayers, technically hasn't been published yet when this story takes place, but oh well. Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think in the comments!


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